My roommate had a rogue bag of Haribo stashed in her luggage, which we rationed out like water that first evening... I've probably never been so grateful for gelatin.
I slept, which wasn't a surprise but was definitely a welcome relief, after all the travelling. The traffic outside our window miraculously calmed down as night fell and the combined noise of the ceiling fans and the air-con was thankfully more soothing than irritating-- it would be a while before our sad little British bodies adjusted to Indian temperatures.
Sunday was our first real day in Mumbai, and I met it with a huge amount of gratefullness: 1) I wasn't dead (yet); 2) the shower was working, and 3) It was our day off! The real work didn't start till tomorrow; this was our breathing space before we plunged into the deep end.
We were splitting into groups to go spend the morning in local churches. I've got to say, my heart sank a bit when we were told our group was heading to the 'Bollywood' church. Firstly because- despite the misleading nomenclature- it wasn't a church that worshiped exclusively bhangra style; I would've been totally down with that. But secondly, because the reason for its nickname was because it was a bit glam, a bit rich, a bit Western... And that was the last thing we wanted. We wanted to be in India. Not the UK.
But we realised quite quickly I think that that pantomime Western lifestyle- Coca-Cola, Macdonald's, cell phones- was a huge part of Mumbai culture. As we went on we would see some of the positives of that-- but also many, many negatives.
But anyway, we went to the church (a taxi, train and tuk-tuk ride away) feeling hugely underdressed (it would become a theme) and found to my utter joy that it was held in the bowels of an abandoned hotel, and a beautiful hotel at that, although I can't remember its name now. But I remember thinking: what a perfect building for a church: bringing life into the ruined places, the forgotten places. Forgive the poetics, but it was a building with cracked ceiling tiles, dusty chandeliers, cold abandoned marble walls and utter silence, with this joyous, vibrant group of people gathered in the basement, waving their flags and dancing and singing their hearts out. Beautiful.
So despite myself I instantly felt at home, here in the 'Bollywood' church. We stuck out like sore thumbs amongst the mostly Indian congregation, but they were so wondrously welcoming our nerves disappeared quickly-- our first taste of wonderful Indian hospitality, which puts our stiff-lipped British manners to shame (and also my first taste of Indian coffee!). The band sang songs that we knew- often in English, although we tried to join in with the Hindi- and we were invited to speak about our reasons for visiting and got a glimpse of how little the mechanics of trafficking are understood even in a city hugely affected by it. In all, the service went on more than three hours, but it was refreshing even with that.
During the service, the verse that I heard coming back to me again and again was Ezra 9:9, and the concept of 'glorious ruins'. It goes like this:
Sunday was our first real day in Mumbai, and I met it with a huge amount of gratefullness: 1) I wasn't dead (yet); 2) the shower was working, and 3) It was our day off! The real work didn't start till tomorrow; this was our breathing space before we plunged into the deep end.
We were splitting into groups to go spend the morning in local churches. I've got to say, my heart sank a bit when we were told our group was heading to the 'Bollywood' church. Firstly because- despite the misleading nomenclature- it wasn't a church that worshiped exclusively bhangra style; I would've been totally down with that. But secondly, because the reason for its nickname was because it was a bit glam, a bit rich, a bit Western... And that was the last thing we wanted. We wanted to be in India. Not the UK.
But we realised quite quickly I think that that pantomime Western lifestyle- Coca-Cola, Macdonald's, cell phones- was a huge part of Mumbai culture. As we went on we would see some of the positives of that-- but also many, many negatives.
But anyway, we went to the church (a taxi, train and tuk-tuk ride away) feeling hugely underdressed (it would become a theme) and found to my utter joy that it was held in the bowels of an abandoned hotel, and a beautiful hotel at that, although I can't remember its name now. But I remember thinking: what a perfect building for a church: bringing life into the ruined places, the forgotten places. Forgive the poetics, but it was a building with cracked ceiling tiles, dusty chandeliers, cold abandoned marble walls and utter silence, with this joyous, vibrant group of people gathered in the basement, waving their flags and dancing and singing their hearts out. Beautiful.
So despite myself I instantly felt at home, here in the 'Bollywood' church. We stuck out like sore thumbs amongst the mostly Indian congregation, but they were so wondrously welcoming our nerves disappeared quickly-- our first taste of wonderful Indian hospitality, which puts our stiff-lipped British manners to shame (and also my first taste of Indian coffee!). The band sang songs that we knew- often in English, although we tried to join in with the Hindi- and we were invited to speak about our reasons for visiting and got a glimpse of how little the mechanics of trafficking are understood even in a city hugely affected by it. In all, the service went on more than three hours, but it was refreshing even with that.
During the service, the verse that I heard coming back to me again and again was Ezra 9:9, and the concept of 'glorious ruins'. It goes like this:
"Though we are slaves, our God has not deserted us in our bondage. He has shown us kindness in the sight of the Kings of Persia. He has granted us new life to rebuild the house of God and repair its ruins and he has given us a wall of protection in Judah and Jerusalem."
The first few words were a real encouragement: "Although we are slaves...". As dark as things are, slavery is never the end of the story. God doesn't see us shut in darkness and just walk away. He is there even in that. He is capable of bringing new life and freedom, "rebuilding the ruins". Here, Ezra is speaking about the Temple's ruins, but in this world we are each God's Temple, and these ruins can be rebuilt.
It gave me hope-- because I for one am all too aware of the mangled, ruined parts of me, and it reminded me that no matter how dark the places we visited in the next weeks were, that wasn't the end of the story. There is always hope. Even the tiniest light overcomes total darkness.
Much later on, in the evening-- as would become our tradition-- we went round our circle and each said a word that exemplified how we were feeling. I'm not bad with words, usually. But I'm pretty sure all I could come up with was 'nervous'. The day had been good. But perhaps the Brit in me was reticent about enjoying myself; because I knew it was going to get a lot tougher.
It gave me hope-- because I for one am all too aware of the mangled, ruined parts of me, and it reminded me that no matter how dark the places we visited in the next weeks were, that wasn't the end of the story. There is always hope. Even the tiniest light overcomes total darkness.
Much later on, in the evening-- as would become our tradition-- we went round our circle and each said a word that exemplified how we were feeling. I'm not bad with words, usually. But I'm pretty sure all I could come up with was 'nervous'. The day had been good. But perhaps the Brit in me was reticent about enjoying myself; because I knew it was going to get a lot tougher.